


Hold My Hand

by FrozenMemories



Series: Femslash February 2020 [17]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:16:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22912345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenMemories/pseuds/FrozenMemories
Summary: Post Season 2Joann wants to help Keyla deal with the aftermath of their decision to leap into an unknown future.
Relationships: Keyla Detmer/Joann Owosekun
Series: Femslash February 2020 [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632643
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	Hold My Hand

Joann finds Keyla in her favorite off duty place on Discovery - her actual favorite spot is her designated seat at the helm, it’s where she _belongs_ is what she’s told Joann one night, when neither of them could sleep, minds going over everything that has happened, everyone they’ve left behind ninehundredsomewhat years ago.

Right now she is off shift, however. Somebody else is occupying her spot, navigating them through unknown space and times. And Keyla sits, looking a little forlorn, hunched over on a huge crate down in cargo bay, legs dangling over the edge in a child-like manner while her eyes are staring out into the vast darkness of space behind them through a window in the cargo lid.

Joann finds a rung in the side of the crate and puts her foot on it to hoist herself up.

“There you are,” she says quietly as she sits down next to Keyla, close enough for their thighs to touch all the way.

Keyla instantly slumps against her.

“How did you know where to find me?” She asks, sounding neither surprised nor annoyed. To be honest she sounds dejected, tired, and it worries Joann a great deal.

She doesn’t state the obvious: _I asked the computer to locate you;_ just grabs Keyla’s hand and pulls it into her lap. “I always do,” she says instead.

Keyla hums and closes her eyes.

“Thank you.”

For a while they just sit and stare out into space together. Keyla isn’t a talker, not when it comes to things that bother her. She’s chatty when she is in a good mood and Joann adores her wit and sass, but she gets precariously quiet when she’s brooding.

She lets Joann caress her hand, though. She even returns the gentle motions with her thumb. Joann interprets it as a good sign.

Their journey has been long and while they’ve all been excited about the future and the prospect of an adventure of unprecedented proportions, all while saving the universe, there are always moments like these. Where worry and fear and regret take over, where memories and thoughts of the past come to haunt them. It is surreal to think that the distance is both three weeks and several hundred years long. Not even Keyla can wrap her brilliant mind around that math.

Their friends and families, their entire lives are so far behind them, and knowing they will never be able to return, to reconnect, hurts.

They’re grieving, all of them, for what is lost but not dead.

Still, Keyla won’t allow herself the weakness. She feels unreasonably obliged to be the strong one; jokes with everybody else to keep their spirits up. Joann admires her strength but at the same time she is deeply concerned. Her only solace is that they’re in this together. Keyla might not be opening up completely but at least she gratefully accepts the comfort Joann is offering.

And she listens.

Late at night, when Joann is shedding her uniform and the professional demeanor that comes with it, Keyla lies down next to her on her tiny bunk, not caring that it’s too small to fit the two of them comfortably, she just scoots closer and holds Joann when the tears fall.

Now all that she wants is to return the favor. Be the rock, the shoulder to lean on.

But Keyla doesn’t cry.

“How are you holding up?” She finally asks, after what feels like an hour of silence. An hour of holding Keyla’s hand and listening to her breathe. Of smelling her hair and feeling her warmth and soaking up all of that comfort instead of reciprocating it.

Keyla lifts her head until their eyes lock. She smiles, “Better.”


End file.
